"Kill them?" Bemish got angry. "He is capable of eating them, marinated or fried! Do you know that nine years ago he hanged three thousand city dwellers that rebelled in the capital? During the civil war, he hanged three hundred people on the Orch's left shore and three hundred people on the right one! Have you forgotten about the Khanalai's camp?"
The car stopped in the villa's yard and Bemish was the first to jump out of it on the sand.
"Where are the journalists, by the way?" he asked.
"That's just what we are missing," the colonel snorted.
"You are wrong," Bemish said. "Kissur is running a show for the journalists while you kicked them out. They lack minds of their own and they repeat whatever you tell them. You will see that they will praise Kissur and shit on you."
"They will praise Kissur, won't they?!" the colonel was enraged. "Will they praise a scoundrel who took eight thousand people hostage?!"
Shavash rushed towards Bemish right from the villa staircase. He hadn't come to meet him — he was scared! The small official was deathly pale and a sleeve of his velvet coat was dirty — it looked out of place on usually tidy Shavash.
"What is he doing?!" Shavash cried out. "Has he demanded anything of me, Terence?"
"He demanded exactly the same," Bemish replied, "as he did when you suggested swapping wives."
Shavash grabbed his head.
"Terence Bemish claims," The colonel said, "that the cargo belonging to Dassa Company was placed into 17B storage area accordingly to your orders. Is it true?"
Shavash raised his crazy eyes.
"How does it matter?!" he shouted exasperated.
"Were those your orders or not?"
"Oh my God, I probably ordered it," the official screamed in fury, "Big deal! They gave me two hundred thousand for a phone call and I called. It was not my cargo!"
"It's clearly not yours!" the colonel spoke with unconcealed contempt looking at the small official.
"Are you any better?!" Shavash screamed. "They go around shoplifting your missiles in your base like chocolate bars in a supermarket, why do you point your finger at me?"
Ten minutes later, in the main villa's hall — it was a charming hall decorated with blue and pale yellow silk — the Assalah emergency committee opened a session. The following people took place in the meeting: six high Weian officials, Terence Bemish as the director of the company where this whole disgrace was taking place, the Earth envoy, three military advisors, also from Earth, and two colleagues of deceased Giles from the Intelligence Service. Mr. Shavash headed the committee which was quite unusual. The small official generally preferred to stay in the shadow during storms but this time he didn't have enough patience for it. He presided over the meeting looking like a corpse.
"Generally speaking, it's quite a surprising alliance," envoy Severin said. "There is practically nothing in common between Kissur and the zealots. Kissur didn't take part in the elections, the zealots won them. Kissur is an ex-first minister of Weia; his political views are those of a strong armed state supporter if not of an outright fascist. He hates everything that weakens state's power. It's natural for him to hate sects and heresies. Ignoring the liberal media's views, the zealots, even the ones that studied at Hevishem — here the Envoy glanced at Bemish reproachfully — consider Earthmen to be demons. Kissur doesn't think so. The demands of the nationalization of the foreign companies clearly come from the zealots. However extravagant Kissur's views are, the presence of Mr. Bemish here demonstrates that Kissur is capable of a very good attitude towards a foreign swindler… I think that it would be enough just to stall it for a while and this coalition will fall apart on its own — they just don't have anything in common…"
"Can't you see what they have in common?!" Shavash cried out in desperation. "They want my head separated from my body!"
Everybody was somewhat shocked by this cowardice. The colonel, having leaned towards Bemish, whispered at his ear, "If this is the case, I will soon join the coalition."
"Are you trying to say, Mr. Shavash," the envoy inquired in an icy voice, "that it was only the desire to hang you that made them organize the massacre at the spaceport, take eight thousand people hostage, discredit our military forces and demand the changeover of the Empire's government?"
"Gentlemen, let's stop bickering," Bemish said, "You should figure out your response to Kissur's demands. And I would like to note that since these demands concern the Weian government and its internal politics, it's quite astonishing that half of our committee are Earthmen."
"Have you forgotten that Earthmen have been taken hostages at the spaceport?" the colonel asked.
"The Earthmen are a minority of the hostages," Bemish replied. "As the Assalah director, I should inform you that 80 % of the passengers and 93 % of the personnel are Weian. Go ahead and calculate how many Earthmen are currently at the spaceport."
"I can tell you, Terence, why the Earthmen are sitting here," Shavash intervened. "Our government decided to request the Federation of Nineteen's military assistance to quench the rebellion and free the hostages."
"So, you are not going to accept their demands, are you?" Bemish inquired.
"It's simply impossible," the foreign affairs minister Khasha claimed. "Aren't you of the same opinion, Mr. Bemish?"
"I would succumb to their demands," Bemish said.
Everybody went still for a moment.
"Oh," the minister spoke smirking. "Haven't you forgotten that one of their demands is gratis nationalization of foreign companies? Do you have another spaceport with one and a half billion isheviks annual profit stashed somewhere, director?"
Bemish paused.
"I would prefer to get the spaceport back in two years," Bemish replied, "after Kissur's policy crashes completely, rather than be a murderer of eight thousand people."
"You have it easy, Earthman," the minister said. "You will lose the spaceport while others will lose their heads."
"Don't you understand, Terence," Shavash cried, "he's a psycho, a maniac! This man will grind you flat. What do you think will happen to the country when they start sorting good businessmen from bad ones?! We should annihilate him! We should call the Federation troops in and squash him like a bug!"
"As the chairman of the Assalah Company's board of directors," Bemish said, "I protest fully against allowing the Federation troops on its territory. And I would like to remind the people present here that if they start using Federation troops to solve their internal problems…"
"Don't teach us, Earthman," an enraged Shainna screamed — he was the deputy chairman of Weia Central Bank and a buddy of Shavash's.
"I will teach you!" Bemish screamed just as loudly, "You don't give a damn about Kissur's industry nationalization demands! You have been living for two thousand years with nationalized industry! What you care about is that Kissur demands to hang you personally, Shainna, and you, Shavash for corruption! Here, a lot of people would agree with Kissur…"
Shavash stood.
"As the official inspector having full authority to deal with the Assalah emergency situation, I request the assistance of the Federation of Nineteen troops."
Bemish rose.
"Gentlemen, I refuse to take part in this abomination."
And he left.
The sunrise was starting somewhere far away. The fragrance of the jasmine bushes was sharp and sleepy bulls mooed in the village having returned from the late plowing.
Wrapping himself in an overcoat and shuddering from cold, Bemish walked to an old gazebo. A servant, stepping softly, brought a basket with liquors to the gazebo and asked what they should serve the guests for the dinner and what they should do to the policemen. The latter started screaming already and the servants had to give them twenty sacks from storage…
Bemish barked at him such that the slave ran away in fear. The basket, however, came to be quite useful. Bemish grabbed a wooden bottle plaited with bark, tore the plug out, threw his head back and started gulping palm vodka.
He stopped only after having drunk half of it.
Far away, through a woven gazebo wall he could see the spaceport. Unlike usual, t didn't gleam at night. The main buildings shined with a dull light and where only yesterday the landing lights used to sparkle, darkness and fog sprawled above the chutes. The monorail gleamed as a lonely horn sticking out of the dark and posts of armed people swarmed every hundred meters on the highway.
Somewhere far away, at the first gates blocking the access to the villa, the whole crowd of journalists was throwing a fit. These idiots, Weian officials, insisted on not letting them in… Bemish, however, didn't want to see the journalists. He could imagine what questions they would ask him. And he couldn't even tell them one tenth of what he had said at the emergency committee meeting.